Harry Potter and the Return Home
by laura.wilson.vic
Summary: After the Battle of Hogwarts, Harry returns to his school, this time as a professor. He teaches Defense Against the Dark Arts to students, some of whom used to be his peers. While struggling with the rest of the staff to rebuild Hogwarts (and the wizarding world) he develops a romance with Draco Malfoy. Will this lead to more conflict, or will it lend much needed balance?
1. Chapter 1

Harry grieved for every life lost during the Battle of Hogwarts, and he was welcome in every family circle to join his grief with theirs. And even though he would like to consider his duties as The Chosen One over, he knew he wasn't that kind of man: the one who could cause devastation and then leave afterwards, knowing it had all served 'the greater good'.

Ron and Hermione were with the rest of the Weasleys. Harry and Hermione might have both been part of the family in some part before tonight, but Harry knew that Hermione joining them on a night like this meant that she was locking herself in with them. Harry was tempted to do the same, but he couldn't bring himself to do it. Though he hugged Ginny, he found himself counting in his head to make sure that he hugged Mrs Weasley and Fleur for the same amount of time. He comforted her as much as everyone else, but he moved on to the next family before he could lead her on too much.

He might still love her, but he was people-weary. It was rare when it was easier to be The Chosen One than Harry, but tonight he clung to that mask.

When he felt he had done enough, Harry retreated to Dumbledore's grave. He might be able to talk with his portrait now, but what Harry really wanted was to be able to sit still and not be interrupted. Hagrid was already there, but he seemed to have fallen asleep, leaning against Grawp, whose gentle snores filled the area. Harry checked to make sure both were breathing, before sitting down on the dew soaked grass.

Dirt from the ground rose gracefully into the air and turned into a large glass bowl at Harry's feet. Harry turned and smiled, expecting to see Hermione, but it was Draco.

"I need to talk to you," he said.

Harry nodded, and Draco sat down and conjured green flames into the bowl.

There was silence as both of them waited for the other to talk. Harry didn't mind sitting quietly with Draco. All the fear and hatred he used to have for him had disappeared. Harry thought that his understanding killed things like fear and hatred.

"My mother told me what happened. So you know she saved you- I don't mean it like that- I don't know how to say this without sounding like I'm being demanding-"

"Draco, there isn't a soul in this castle that's at their best. We're all knackered. Just speak plainly."

"I just came up from the dungeons. All the Slytherins are locked up. I might have been able to free them, but I didn't want them to be attacked if someone saw them."

Harry frowned. He'd forgotten about them.

"Are they OK, did you get them food?"

"Kreacher - that house-elf that used to live with you sometimes - he had already organised it."

"Regulus would be proud," Harry said.

"Fine, sure, he went above and beyond, as per usual, but he shouldn't have had to!"

"You're right. Look, I know they're just kids, but their folks just were responsible for countless murders tonight and I can't guarantee that everyone is too tired to think of revenge."

"I'm not saying this right…" Draco put his hands behind his neck and seemed to curl into himself. He looked in pain. Harry took out his wand and pointed it at Hagrid's hut.

"Accio Firewhiskey,"

As suspected, Hagrid had at least one bottle to be summoned. As it whizzed through the air towards them, Harry remembered that he'd been using Draco's wand. He found it in his pocket and looked at it. Harry caught the Firewhiskey reflexly, without looking up. He uncorked it and took a swig before handing both the bottle and the wand to Draco. The liquid burned Harry's throat and warmed his belly and stopped the thoughts from racing through his head. He'd thought he was calm before the drink. Afterwards, he felt like he had settled down into his soul. Draco looked at the bottle, and seemed to be about to say something (maybe to object to sharing or refuse the drink altogether), but then he tipped the bottle to his lips and drank three huge swallows as if it were water. His eyes were slightly wet when he finished, and he gave a delicate cough. Harry had the awful realisation that someone could easily get addicted to the feelings that went with Firewhiskey. Draco handed it back to Harry and, partly just to do something, partly to get rid of his new anxiety, Harry drank again.

When Draco started speaking again, his voice had lost the tight stop-startedness from earlier and his posture was more relaxed. He looked like a normal person, not a proud Malfoy. Even when lounging in a huddle of fellow Slytherins, Harry could never remember seeing a hair out of place, or a crumpled shirt on Draco.

"Some of those kids were related to Death Eaters. In fact, one of my father's jobs was to talk to every graduating Slytherin and see if they would be interested in joining the Dark Lord. Both your side and mine, probably rightly so, assume that a Slytherin is more likely to be involved in all this than a Gryffindor."

"My question to you, and look, I don't expect you to know all the answers, but my question is this: will there be a Hogwarts next year and, if so, will Slytherin still be a house? Will those kids, some of them are still eleven, be allowed to go to school, or are they too much of a threat?"

"I thought you might be here about yourself and your family," Harry said. "I thought you might want your mother's saving my life to cancel out your Death Eater-iness,"

"If it can, that's great, I was a crap Death Eater so it would suck to be in Azkaban with the rest of them, but I was still one of them. And I won't fight you over my father, he's done too much. But he did it for me, and I hate to see him imprisoned again."

"No one is going to Azkaban," said Harry.

"I get we're bonding now, but you can't let my father be free and send the rest of them, he's probably only second to Lestrange-"

" _No one_ is going to Azkaban." Harry stared at Draco until their eyes met. "It's an evil place, and we can do better."

Draco didn't say anything, but didn't drop his gaze either. Tears ran down his face and still he stared determinedly at Harry.

"You can't take this back," he warned. "I won't let you promise this and then go back on it,"

Harry didn't know what to say to make himself clear. So he grabbed Draco's hand. "No one is going to Azkaban," he said soft but firm. Draco let his forehead fall on Harry's shoulder and cried. Harry thought he knew why. Both Hagrid and Sirius had been frank about almost every subject, except their time in Azkaban. It was bad knowing how the dementors affected himself, but for Harry to see those strong men - afraid as he had seen them afraid of nothing else. Lucius Malfoy was a slimy, evil man, but Draco was his son, and no son wanted to see their dad broken like that.

Harry waited for Draco to recover. He felt like he had all the patience and the wisdom in the world tonight. He was grateful that Draco had caught him now, while the future was still so liquid. In a week, someone else might have made these decisions and cut Harry out. Harry was _not_ going to be Minister for Magic. But he deserved to have a say on some things.

Draco had stopped crying audibly, but Harry was happy to lend him his shoulder for as long as it took for him to gather himself properly. He drank while he waited, mostly for something to do.

Hagrid woke up during this time and Harry tossed him the bottle. If he was surprised to see Draco leaning on Harry, he didn't show it. He looked too tired for surprise. Harry refilled the bottle with a charm after Hagrid took his giant sized sip. Tomorrow they would all have to get by with or without it, but for tonight it was enough to just sit.

Draco looked embarrassed when he sat up straight and saw Hagrid was awake. But then Hagrid passed him the bottle.

"Yer a good kid, Malfoy," he said. "Dumbledore told me so, an' he hasn't been wrong yet."

"Who's going to be Headmaster now?" asked Draco.

"McGonagall. For now. She can choose someone to replace her, I'm sure she's had enough of the job, but she'll do it at least for next year." That at least was an easy decision for Harry to make.

Draco nodded.

"Will Slytherins be invited back?"

"The world isn't split into good people and Death Eaters," said Harry. "Snape was both. So was Regulus Black. I think you are too. And then there are plenty of people, like Umbridge who wasn't a Death Eater but who was worse than most, and Wormtail, who was a Gryffindor but who betrayed the Order and my parents to become a Death Eater. The Sorting Hat is good at some things, but not at telling someone how their whole life will turn out. And Voldemort burned it anyway. So I'll talk with the heads of houses to see what they think about keeping houses at all, but regardless, those who were sorted into Slytherin won't be excluded just for their house."

"Can I come back?"

"In my books, yes. But I'm not the Ministry. Ultimately, they have to decide how to deal with all of us."

Harry addressed Hagrid for the next bit.

"I'm not just the hero who walks away after the fight is over, but I'm not taking power for myself either. I have some contributions I want to make - like getting rid of Azkaban - but I don't want to make all the decisions."

"Yer Dumbledore's man," Hagrid said. "It's not the easy path, but it's a good one." With that, he heaved himself up and went back to his hut.

"Dumbledore had floo powder in his office. Let's take that to the dungeons and get those kids home. Slughorn will help." Harry stood up and was surprised to find himself unsteady. He held out his hand for Draco, but he got up with all his usual grace even though he had drunk more than Harry.

"You need to learn to handle your liquor, Potter," he smirked. Harry grinned back. Draco gripped Harry in a strong hug. Harry patted him awkwardly on the back. "Thanks for hearing me out," he said.


	2. Chapter 2

The summer holidays had always been dull for Harry, but this year he had so much on that looking back he wasn't sure how he got through it all. He reclaimed Grimmauld Place, and with help from Kreacher, Dobby, and random visitors he managed to get it back in good condition, much as he had helped to do before his fifth year. Kingsley Shacklebolt became Minister for Magic, and while he was happy to listen to Harry's ideas, and take them on board, he didn't demand Harry as a mascot as Fudge had. Though, by insisting Harry meet him at the Ministry on a semi-regular basis, Harry felt that he had achieved the same thing.

But the biggest thing was the realisation that Harry would have to decide what to do with his life. Hermione was going back to Hogwarts, there was no way she wasn't completing her NEWTs. Ron had turned down several job offers to work with George at Weasley's Wizarding Wheezes, and Harry was pleased to see that he was holding his own there despite the huge shoes he was filling. Apparently it wasn't just Ginny who had secretly hidden her practical joke abilities.

Harry considered becoming an auror. They would have him now, regardless of NEWTs, and while he knew that tracking down Voldemort sympathisers was a necessary and worthy thing to do, he didn't want to live that life, at least not yet. He also wanted to be a good godfather to Teddy, who was currently living with Bill and Fleur. Harry visited every day, but neither he nor Ginny were ready to start a family, so it seemed better to supervise Teddy's wellbeing, rather than take on that responsibility when it might hurt more.

Ginny was considering going back to Hogwarts, but that last year had been more tough on her than she liked to admit, and the castle had become somewhat sullied for her. She was spending more and more of her time on her broom, and Harry thought she might see if she could fly professionally. Harry sometimes fantisised about following her; he missed playing Quidditch together.

But one day, about half way through the holidays, McGonagall came to Grimmauld Place and put in an incredible day of cleaning. She was able to detect curses on several items that Harry hadn't noticed and had a real knack with household charms. Kreacher pronounced himself in love with her after she managed to repair the family tapestry that had been cursed into pieces by some Death Eater or another.

But all day, Harry had the suspicion that she was there for a bigger purpose than helping him get his home in order. And so, when they sat down for dinner (Kreacher had gone all out with roast lamb and all the trimmings with treacle tart for dessert) Harry was unsurprised when she started talking business.

"I'll get straight to the point, Potter. I need a Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher. I haven't seen anything in the paper, so I assume you haven't decided one way or the other what you're doing this year, and I want you to come back to Hogwarts."

"Professor, I didn't even finish school, I can't be a professor," Harry protested.

"I would agree, if you hadn't just ended the biggest wizarding war we've ever had, if you hadn't already proved yourself as a capable teacher, if I had any other options or if I thought the position commanded more respect. You know we hired Gilderoy Lockhart one year. You can't be worse than him."

McGonagall tucked into her treacle tart and let Harry think. He had loved teaching Dumbledore's army. He would be able to go home. As much as Kreacher looked after him here, Hogwarts was Harry's home in a way that not many had understood. And the fact that he would be the first teacher to have the option of staying for more than a year since Voldemort had cursed the position had a certain poetry to it.

"Am I not too famous?" asked Harry. "I can't walk down the street these days, that's not the kind of person you want teaching, is it?"

"Dumbledore couldn't either. And to speak frankly, kids don't give a damn who you are. They're still going to pass notes and skive your class and lie about their homework. It might be nice to be treated like everyone else. To eventually be known as Professor Potter, not Harry Potter."

"Okay, I'll do it." Having made the decision, Harry felt the weight of indecision he had been carrying around suddenly fall off his shoulders.

"You'll have to take your NEWTs in the other subjects though," said McGonagall. "We're happy to give you an honorary Defence NEWT, and allow you to teach on the assumption that you are working towards a full qualification."

"I can't take classes with the students I'm trying to teach!"

"You'll find it a lot easier now than if you were older. And if you wish, I'm sure the other professors would be happy to tutor you privately. I'd take advantage of Miss Granger too."

Harry decided to find it funny rather than insulting that McGonagall had snuck that condition in after he had already agreed. McGonagall raised her eyebrows at his smile, but there was something in the way she pursed her lips that made Harry think that she was holding her happiness back.

And so, the second half of the holidays passed even quicker than the first. On top of everything he was doing before, he was now struggling to plan lessons for seven different levels of students. Hermione was more help than he could have expected. She still had her notes from every year, and had paid attention during those dull first classes where the professor just described what they would teach, rather than just getting on and teaching them.

A week before term went back for the students, Harry moved into Hogwarts. He had seen the office that was now his home under many other professors, and was glad not to see any mementos of them left inside. Neville was going to be teaching Herbology under the supervision of Professor Sprout, and so he was happy to show Harry how to access the bedroom behind the office. Harry couldn't remember ever telling Neville that Hogwarts was his home, but Neville knew. The office itself was fairly non-descript, with plenty of room for Harry to put his new books and eventually gadgets and creatures like the two professors he most hoped to emulate, but his bedroom was as if someone had taken the Gryffindor dormitory and tweaked it into a more man-appropriate place. It was round and homey, with a fireplace, copies of the tapestries that hung on the walls and a four-poster bed, though this one was a double. Even the cupboard was practically identical to the one that Harry had hung his robes in as a student.

"You can change whatever you want," Neville said, and Harry was reminded of the timid Neville he had shared a room with, not this Neville who had become confident and fierce.

"It's perfect, Neville, it's home."

After that, it was as if some barrier had come down between them and they were able to talk properly. Neville filled Harry in on what he could expect from students who had been unfortunate enough to go to Hogwarts last year, and who had suffered the most. Harry told Neville what it had meant when he had killed Voldemort's snake. The two of them rehearsed speaking as if to a class with each other and went over their lesson plans. Harry pretended to be so disruptive in Greenhouse Two that Neville told him he had detention and it took them both a moment to realise how ridiculous that was. They moved a couch and two armchairs up to Harry's office by hand because neither of them could think of a way to teleport them there, and were caught halfway up by Professor Flitwick who hit them around the knees until they levitated them with magic.

They both worked with other teachers a lot, especially Hagrid who was the newest to teaching apart from themselves, and by the day the students were due to arrive, Harry felt like he would actually be able to do a good job.

He had prepared himself for McGonagall's speech. He had never been to an important feast at Hogwarts that Dumbledore hadn't spoke at. But even though her style was so different to Dumbledore's, McGonagall managed to be kind, welcoming and firm.

After consulting with magical schools around the world, McGonagall had decided to keep all four houses in much the same state as they had been. Without the sorting hat, she had enchanted a lion, snake, eagle and badger to choose each child. The lion tended towards brave, the snake to cunning, the eagle to academic and the badger to kind, but it was more random than it had been under the hat, and instead of a song preaching the differences between the houses, each of the house ghosts spoke about their favourite members of their house. Harry was grateful that all the wizards mentioned had been dead for hundreds of years; he had been worried that Nick might talk about him and make it even harder to teach the students.

The feast ended and the staff went to the staff room, as had become their habit, to share wine and debrief. Everyone was pleased by how the sorting had gone, and praised the ghosts for their contribution. By the time Harry got to his office, it was past midnight and he was pleasantly warm and full.

When he got there, it wasn't empty.

Draco Malfoy was leaning, his back ramrod straight, against Harry's desk. Harry removed his hand from his pocket where it had been wrapped around his wand. He wasn't quite sure where the two of them stood, but he knew he wasn't about to curse a student, especially when term hadn't even technically started.

"Take a seat," Harry said, and he slumped into one of the armchairs himself. Draco stayed against the desk.

"What's on your mind, Draco?"

Draco had refused to relax even a little, and he looked Harry right in the eyes as he spoke, seeming defensive.

"I don't feel safe downstairs."

"Has someone said something?" Harry thought back to the students that he and Neville had decided to keep an eye on. Some of the returning students had seemed a little too willing to go along with the Carrows. It was one thing to accept anyone who wanted to come back to Hogwarts, but quite another to share a dormitory with someone who might curse you in your sleep. McGonagall had put several defensive spells in all sleeping quarters, in addition to the ones that were already there, but that wasn't common knowledge.

"No one has said anything. I can hold my own. It's just-. Look, I slept in the same house as Fenrir Greyback, I wake at the smallest noise. I was on the verge of throwing up just sitting on my bed while everyone else was in the common room."

Draco put his head in his hands. "I don't know why I came here," he said.

Harry went to his potion cabinet and took out a calming draught.

"I used to see what Voldemort was doing when I slept. Now I have nightmares replaying the things I saw him do. I get it."

Draco nodded.

"I can't take that," he said. "I've already had some,"

"And you're still tense?" said Harry incredulously. "I have a mouthful of this and I'm dead to the world,"

"Guess I'm tougher than you," said Draco, with a hint of his old smirk.

"Do you want to sleep on my couch? I'll be in the next room, but we can put alarms on all the doors so you'll be woken if someone tries to come in."

"I thought you might let me in on how to get to the Shrieking Shack," said Draco.

"You're staying in the castle. I'm not going to start my teaching career by breaking all the rules," Harry said firmly.

Draco didn't move from the desk so Harry went to his room and fetched extra blankets and pillows from the linen cupboard and dumped them on the couch.

"I don't care if you stay here, go to the hospital wing or go back to your dormitory, I'll vouch for you if you get in trouble for leaving your common room after curfew so long as you stay in the castle. Go see if the Room of Requirement still works, if that's where you want to be. I'm going to bed."

Harry marched to his room and closed the door. He wasn't sure if he was doing the right thing, but he felt like it was his job to help Draco accept more responsibility.


	3. Chapter 3

The next morning, Harry woke up and Draco was nowhere to be seen. All the bedding had been folded neatly on the couch, but it wasn't where Harry had put it last night, so he supposed it had been used. Harry thought it was unusual for someone who had always had a house elf to be so neat, but looking back, he had never seen Draco in the slightest state of disarray.

He decided to put it out of his mind and get on with his day. His first class was immediately after breakfast, so he set up the classroom before he headed to the Great Hall in case some eager students got in before him.

His first class was with the first years, and he was grateful to have a blank slate. Some came from wizarding families and so had an idea of what had happened last year, but quite a few were from muggle families as well. Harry wasn't any more intimidating than any of the other professors. He told them what they would be studying and impressed them all by conjuring his patronus. The students didn't end up even touching their wands, but Harry hoped they had a good time. He only had a five minute break between classes but he was glad that he didn't have longer; he had been dreading the seventh year students and he didn't want to sit in his nerves.

The class was a mixture of kids who had had a fractured experience as seventh years last year and wanted to repeat and those who were in sixth year last year and wanted to progress. This meant half of them used to be in class with Harry. Harry felt comforted to see Hermione sitting in the front row, as well as quite a few he had taught in Dumbledore's Army. Draco was sitting in the back row, a world apart from the Malfoy that Harry remembered. That Malfoy had been gleefully surrounded by admiring Slytherins, this one seemed to fade into the background.

Harry sat on his desk at the front of the class. He could see that look on many faces that he had seen at the Hog's Head when Hermione was convincing them to join DA. They weren't sure they wanted to be taught by him.

"I'm going to focus this year on helping you pass your NEWTS. I know that none of you have had a consistent Defense teacher, I know many of you have had more practical experience than many wizards see in a lifetime. But we're going to try and move on. We're not forgetting. We're just going to try and put that to one side."

Harry stood up and moved to the chalkboard. He pointed his wand as Flitwick had taught him and the words _Theory_ and _Practical_ appeared in Harry's handwriting.

"There are two components to your NEWTS-" Harry started.

"How can you teach them with us?" came a voice and Harry wasn't surprised to see Ernie, a Hufflepuff who he'd butted heads with before with his hand pointing at Draco. "How do you know he won't use what you teach us against you?"

"We're using defensive magic, Macmillon," spat Draco.

"Are you objecting to Draco, Slytherins or some other group?" asked Harry cooly.

"Slytherins seem a good place to start! Why do we even still have them? Old Snake-Face wanted all muggle-borns dead and it seems to me you have to agree to get in his house."

"For homework, Ernie, you will be writing an essay on the contributions of Salazar Slytherin to the magical world."

Harry stood as straight as he could and took the time to look each student in the eyes, holding his gaze on any student that avoided him. He might not have enjoyed Snape's classes, but Snape always knew how to control a class, and this was something he had taught Harry indirectly: the power of silence. The class waited, and it seemed they all breathed in and exhaled as one.

"Each one of you is here by choice. After what you have been through, no one is going to force you to finish school. But you came back. Every person who was involved at the Battle has been interrogated by the Ministry. I was there for some of them. Shacklebolt did not go easy on those who chose the wrong side. Does anyone know what house our Minister was sorted into?" Harry waited and no one answered. "Does anyone think it matters remotely what the sorting hat thought of him when he was 11?"

Harry took a deep breath. He remembered sitting in the seat two along from where Ernie was sitting while Umbridge lectured him about the Minister knowing best, and then punishing him for speaking up. Only she and Voldemort had scarred him permanently. But those situations were completely different. He forced the image of himself as a cruel, inflexible teacher out of his head.

"I won't punish anyone for speaking their mind or asking questions. But there is an appropriate way to do that, and I will never again tolerate a student attacking - verbally or physically - anyone else. Ernie, I think you have valid concerns, but you attacked one of my students just now. Please don't do it again."

Harry looked to Hermione and she gave him a subtle thumbs up. She raised her hand and he nodded.

"What would you say an appropriate way is, sir?" Harry raised his eyebrow slightly at the 'sir', but was grateful for the guidance.

"I think it's always easier to talk about these things one-on-one first. My office is always open. And I will always ask you for your take before I explain my side, so I encourage you to know your mind before you speak it - for example, if Ernie had said this in my office, I would ask him what kind of Hogwarts he envisioned. Then I'd explain that the staff has spent a lot of time on this, and have come to our decision carefully. I also would remind him, as Draco did, that this is Defense Against the Dark Arts, not Dark Arts as it was last year. My first priority is that you all feel safe. And words don't count much when it comes to feeling safe. If Ernie, or anyone else, feels unsafe working with a particular student, due to personal friction or something else, I won't partner those two together. But I hope, seeing as we have just narrowly avoided a world in which people would have been judged by their parents, that we would now work hard to make sure we would not judge those left behind based on _their_ parents."

Ernie was looking more thoughtful than defiant, so Harry was able to move on to the topic of what would be covered in preparation for the NEWTs, and by the end of class he hoped that some of the tension had lessened. Draco was the last to leave the room, and he paused at the door as if to say something, but he left without a word.

Harry thought several times during that week that it might have been the hardest week he had ever had at Hogwarts. He was relieved when the weekend came to go to his pre-arranged lunch with Hagrid. Neville was already there, having convinced Hagrid to let him help cook, and Harry was surprised and happy to see that Ron had come up for the weekend.

Hermione was late, having spent the morning in the library, and when she came she brought a cake that Dobby had given her.

She squealed with delight to see Ron, and Harry and Hagrid awkwardly left them on the front step under the pretense of looking at Hagrid's pumpkins.

They spent the afternoon catching up on what had been a difficult week for all of them.

"Harry's going to get me an Outstanding in Defense," Hermione told Ron happily. "It's like being back in Dumbledore's Army, I don't think I've ever done so well in Defense as when he teaches it,"

"Hear that Harry, you're even better than Lockhart!" said Ron.

"Hermione's the only student that treats me like normal," he replied. "Everyone else is either afraid of me, in awe of me or hates me,"

"So, pretty normal for Hogwarts," said Ron.

They all laughed but Harry had to grimace, picturing a long, isolated life ahead of him.

"George can't stand sharing his apartment, I need to find somewhere else to live," said Ron.

"Stay at Grimmauld place if you want," Harry offered. "Kreacher's at Hogwarts but I'm sure he'd be happy to go back if you wanted."

"I might do, it'd be good to stay in London. When are your Hogsmeade weekends, I'll book a room while I'm here,"

They talked about Professor Sprout struggling to let Neville do anything on his own and Hagrid's uneasy peace with the centaurs. Ron told them that Ginny had caught the eye of the Holyhead Harpies and was now a substitute chaser for them. Harry pretended he already knew, to avoid the topic of their relationship. The unhappy truth was that neither of them were making it a priority or had even discussed whether their occasional owls constituted a relationship. They hadn't spent more than a few moments alone together since Harry's fifth year, when he technically broke up with her. He suddenly had a lot more sympathy for the way Ron had avoided dealing with Lavender.

They ended up asking Kreacher to bring them dinner and stayed into the night, only leaving when Hermione insisted she needed to do an hour of studying before bed or she would fail all her NEWTs. On the way back to the castle, after Neville had turned off to his office, Hermione turned to Harry and asked, "do you know what's going on with Malfoy? He didn't go to the Slytherin common room after the Prefect meeting, he said he was going to the hospital wing."

Every night, Harry left the bedding on the couch and every morning it was still there, but he knew Draco had used it. He had adjusted his protective wards to allow Draco free movement, but no matter how quietly he opened the door, Harry woke up in the next room. Draco wasn't the only one who had trained himself to respond to the lightest noise. It had disturbed him the first couple nights, but now he was falling back into rhythm with having a roommate, and it felt less lonely than sleeping alone at Grimmauld Place had.

"He's having a rough time, but he's working through it." Harry said.

Hermione looked at him.

"I'm not trying to be secretive, I just wouldn't know about it if I wasn't a teacher," Harry said.

"Do you think he needs a friend?" Hermione asked softly. "He doesn't sit with anyone anymore. He just looks so sad,"

"You're too good for your own good," Harry told her. "I think he might, but I don't know if he's in a good enough place to be able to say so. And he's proud. He won't take pity friendship."

Hermione thought that over in silence as they climbed the steps to the Gryffindor tower. Harry would have to walk down them again to get to his office, but if Hermione got caught on her own after curfew she'd be in detention.

"I'll think about it," she told him. They paused at the portrait of the Fat Lady. "I miss having you and Ron every night," Hermione said.

"It's not the same," Harry agreed.


	4. Chapter 4

Christmas snuck up on them the way it always did at Hogwarts. On the last Friday of classes, Harry was glad to have younger kids so that he could play games with them. It was heartening, during the last class which was a double period with third years, to see the kids who had been so solemn for the past few months really laugh as they all tried to think of the most ridiculous curses for Harry to demonstrate on a willing Neville. At the end he handed them all out chocolate frogs and reminded them not to tell McGonagall he hadn't set them homework over the holidays.

"Though smart third years use the break to make notes for their exams!" he called over their heads as they rushed out of the room.

Though all the teachers had worked hard to make Hogwarts extra inviting, very few staff or students chose to stay for Christmas. Harry had been tempted to spend Christmas with the Weasley's but had told them he had too much work to do. He would apparate there for Christmas dinner, but the rest he needed to be at Hogwarts for.

Ron had seemed to understand a bit too well when he said this, and Harry gathered he had been talking to Ginny. They still hadn't defined their relationship, though the tone of their letters was more friendly than romantic. Neither seemed to notice if they forgot to write for a while. They had their own lives happening around them. It was hard to think too much about someone so far away. Sometimes, Harry couldn't picture her face. He knew she had red hair, but couldn't quite grasp the shade of her eyes, or the expressions she made. It was easier to picture the photos he remembered of her than the actual living Ginny.

Hermione had not been having that problem with Ron. Though she was determined to break some kind of record with her NEWTs, every second she wasn't studying she was writing to Ron, or thinking of a surprise for him, or talking about him. Harry looked at her and saw how he wished he could be. Really, he just needed to make a decision one way or the other, but Hermione's passion looked nice.

Harry was surprised when he and Neville got to his office after that last period and found Malfoy waiting there. Neville's hands were still green and Harry thought he had a potion that would work even though Neville's body seemed to have stopped responding to his anti-jinxes.

Draco's ears went a little pink, but he stayed where he was.

"I wanted to talk about the holiday homework," he said as way of explanation.

"That's fine, Draco, feel free to take a seat," Harry said, pretending to be unconcerned. He didn't have the potion he wanted, but it was a simple one, so even though he was tempted to send Neville to Madame Pomfrey or Slughorn, he got his kit out and started brewing. Draco looked like he would like to continue leaning against the desk as he had previously, but with Neville there he sat stiffly on one of the armchairs.

"Are you going to your gran's for the holidays?" said Harry as he counted stirs in his head.

"I already told you I was," said Neville.

"No, I mean for the full two weeks," said Harry. He couldn't think of anything to say that he was comfortable talking about in front of Neville and Draco.

"I'll probably drop in on Luna at some point," he said. Again, Harry couldn't think of anything appropriate to say. If Draco hadn't been there he might have made a joke about Luna, or asked Neville if there was a reason he was seeing her specially, but ...

Harry finished the potion and poured half into a mug for Neville and stoppered the rest for next time. Neville's hands immediately returned to normal.

"Thanks, Harry," he said.

"Well, I was the one who did it to you," Harry joked weakly.

"See you at the feast?"

Harry nodded and Neville left the room, giving Harry a grimace over the back of Draco's head that said all too clearly that he had felt the awkwardness too.

Harry waited until he heard the classroom door close downstairs before he sat across from Draco.

"I've been sleeping on your couch all term," Draco blurted.

"I know," said Harry.

"I don't want to go home for the holidays," said Draco.

"If you want, I can get a futon or something," Harry said. When Draco looked at him like he had sprouted an extra head, Harry realised futons hadn't made it to the wizarding world. "It's a couch that converts into a bed. It would be more comfortable in the long term."

"You're okay with this being more long term?" said Draco. "I thought you wanted me to adjust back into normal life."

"I do," said Harry. "I just don't think that happens overnight."

Draco's shoulders slumped. "Do you have anything to drink?" he asked.

"Butterbeer, pumpkin juice, wine…" said Harry.

"Wine," said Draco, somewhat meekly. Harry filled two goblets and placed them on the coffee table. Draco took his and drank immediately.

"This hasn't come from Madam Rosmerta," Draco said.

"I'm afraid it's muggle wine," said Harry. He watched Draco for a reaction.

"They had to be able to do something right," he said with a thin smile.

"Draco… I'm here if you want to talk. I know we don't have the best history, but I'm probably the only one who will understand what you've gone through and be okay with it,"

Draco tapped his heel aggressively on the floor, working through his thoughts.

"I feel like my father must have when he came home from Azkaban. I jump at everything, I can't look people in the eye, I'm trying to keep myself so busy I don't have time to think but I can't be busy all the time. I've tried to sleep in the library, in the hospital wing, in a secret passageway, but I feel like I'm being watched everywhere but here."

"Draco, you're allowed to sleep here," Harry said. "You're allowed to feel anxious, don't get into that trap of feeling anxious about feeling anxious,"

"My father did that. He's still crippled by it. How do I live in this world where he is so cowed?"

"Draco, you're not your father. You're-"

"Oh, what do you know, Potter?" Malfoy finished his goblet and slammed it on the table. "Your father never lived long enough to be anything other than perfect."

Harry felt obliged to correct him for one absurd moment, but shook himself.

"Draco, calm down. Get to the point."

"I don't have a point!" Draco grabbed his hair violently, and when he let go several blond strands came out with his hands. He noticed and moaned, "I'm falling apart."

Harry moved without speaking, pinning Draco's arms to his side in a rough hug. After the battle, in the days before they left Hogwarts, Harry had slept in the Great Hall surrounded by people and their weight and sound didn't make for a continuous sleep, but it was better than the nightmares. It was comforting, knowing that he didn't have to be on alert, ready to pack up and leave at a moment's notice.

Draco was tense, so tense, and he gritted his teeth against a silent groan. After a moment, he let his head fall onto Harry's neck and his body loosened. Harry didn't know what had made him hug Draco, or what made him cling on once Draco's body relaxed.

After a few moments, Harry became hyper aware that once he let go he would have to explain why he had hugged him in the first place. After a few moments more, Draco's face turned slightly so that his nose was pressed against Harry's face. Harry froze, not sure what was happening. Draco slowly touched his lips to Harry's neck. Harry slowly drew back and let go.

"Did you not -" said Draco.

Harry shook his head awkwardly.

"I don't think I've touched anyone since the Battle. I hugged my parents and I leaned on you and I haven't come close to anyone since." said Draco.

Harry moved back onto the couch where he had been before and stared at his shoes.

"I don't think I've talked this much in a while either,"

Harry shook his head.

"It's weird to actually take a step back in class. Quietly successful suits me. I think it's a new stage in Malfoy greatness."

Harry shifted in his seat. Draco fidgeted with his hands, and kept babbling despite himself.

"I've been meaning to ask you some questions about NEWTs, I'm struggling with my patronus-"

Harry stood up and Draco finally stopped talking. Draco stood up too.

"It hurts, to go so long feeling like no one wants to touch you or look at you. Thanks."

The two of them were trapped close together by the furniture.

"I can sleep somewhere else-"

"Don't be stupid," Harry said. He coughed. "You sleep here, I… Look would you believe me if I said that unexpected things don't happen that often to me?"

Draco snorted and the two of them laughed properly, until both of them were sitting again. Harry on the couch, Draco in the armchair.

"I actually think the last time I was totally floored by something was when Hagrid told me I was a wizard. And to be honest, I look back on it now and I think I was mental not to know something was up. The muggles I lived with told me what they expected from a normal kid and then I'd go and jump from the ground to the top of the school building and I told them _the wind_ must have caught me."

"I was a nightmare when I got my magic," said Draco. "They had to stop having people over because I would stick all the furniture in the dining room to the roof or explode things just to see if I could,"

"But Hagrid told me about Voldemort then, and Hermione always told me what I was getting into before I got myself too deep. She's good at slowing me down. I was preparing for the Battle for years before it happened."

"Was dying and coming back to life part of the plan?"

"Well, dying was. And then… It sounds too insane to be real, but I was out of it for a while, dealing with the fact that I'd meant to die and I had the option to go back, so when I went back it wasn't like I was thinking on the fly…"

Draco wrinkled his brow like he was puzzling that out, but nodded for Harry to continue.

"Anyway, I'm not used to thinking about things on the spot. Improvising with spells and flying, maybe, but… And there's a lot to unpack here…"

The two of them seemed to be taking turns in looking at each other, so they never quite had to meet eyes.

"I really want us to keep talking. You getting here late and leaving early and never seeing me is a bit ridiculous, it kind of defeats the point of you getting used to being near someone. So, let's have another chat tonight, after the feast."

Harry opened the hidden door to his bathroom and washed his face.

"I'm going now…" Harry said, a bit awkwardly.

Draco smirked and gestured ironically towards the door. He looked the most relaxed Harry had seen him all year. _There's something wrong with him if he's comforted by me being uncomfortable_ , Harry thought, but he left without saying anything.


	5. Chapter 5

Harry thought about walking through the grounds to process his thoughts, but instead he went to the Gryffindor common room. Hermione had always been able to explain how other people felt.

Outside the Portrait of the Fat Lady, Harry felt a bit awkward. He knew the password, (now that he was staff he knew most passwords) but he didn't want to disturb the relaxing students. McGonagall only entered their common room when something awful had happened. He was dithering about what to do, when Hermione herself came bustling out with her arms full of books.

"Harry!" she said. "What's going on?"

"I was looking for you - can I take some of those?"

Hermione passed half her pile over and they started walking downstairs.

"It's end of term so I have to return some of these," said Hermione. "What's going on?"

Harry looked around, but their corridor was deserted. "I want to talk to you about Draco," he said.

"Shall we dump these and go for a walk?"

Harry relaxed. He knew too many of the secret passageways around Hogwarts to be totally confident speaking freely inside the castle.

"Draco's been sleeping in my office," Harry said once they were outside.

"I thought he must be in someone's office," said Hermione. "I couldn't imagine him in the Slytherin common room."

"What do you know?" asked Harry, a bit desperately.

"Well, I see him in the library a lot. He doesn't speak to anyone by choice. When we got out of your class last week, the corridor was packed and he looked like it hurt him to be brushed by other students. Madame Pomfrey won't give him anything to calm down anymore because she thinks he's selling it."

"He wouldn't...:"

"He might. The Ministry seized a lot of his family's estate. I think he was always going to work, he's too smart not to, but now he has no choice. It's not like anyone would take him in. Well, apart from you, apparently." Hermione looked at him quizzically. "Why your office?"

"He asked," Harry said simply. "Or came to me, anyway. He wanted me to set him up in the Shrieking Shack."

"Snape's gone, he never liked Slughorn, you've got that whole 'moral fibre' thing going on. Any of the other teachers might have told him to just deal with it,"

"What's with wizards and not caring about mental health? He's probably shellshocked worse than half the muggles after their wars,"

"The mind is tricky," said Hermione, gently. "You can't spell your way out of it."

They walked in silence for a bit.

"Do you remember when I was trying to think of a way I could be his friend?" asked Hermione. "I never thought of a way around his hatred for my parents. I think he could get over that, but I couldn't think of a reason why I would, except that I really do pity him right now. You could be his friend. You might be able to help him."

Harry considered this. He felt too uncomfortable mentioning that Draco might want something more than friendship, but Hermione had a special gift for being able to give great advice without needing to know the whole picture. Harry suspected this was because she wasn't a gossip, and didn't feel the need to make drama. She noticed things without thinking they were particularly noteworthy.

"Can I be his friend and his teacher?" Harry asked. Hermione gave him a wry smile.

"What am I if not your student and your friend?"

"I didn't mean it like that. We've always been friends and you're the picture of professionalism. I don't want anyone saying I'm favouriting him, or that he is corrupting me. I feel like I need to keep it a secret, and that usually means that I'm doing something wrong." Hermione digested that. They found a spot near the lake to sit and talk.

"After the Triwizard Tournament, I kept writing to Viktor for a while. And I told mum and dad that he was a penpal, and that it was wonderful being able to make friends with someone from such a different background. They usually just agree with me, they're smart, but sometimes I think they feel out of their depths with the wizard stuff no matter how many of my school books they read." Harry suddenly got a mental picture of Hermione as a parent, reading through all her kid's coursework. "Anyway, they encouraged me to make friends, because they know I haven't always had the best luck with that, but mum knew there was a bit more to it." Hermione plucked strands of grass as she talked, and weaved them together. Harry thought she might be avoiding eye contact. "Mum said there was nothing wrong with having a romantic relationship with Viktor, even with us living so far apart, so long as we both knew where we stood. She asked me if he was allowed to see other girls or me other boys. She said I should be as honest as possible, and to pretend like Viktor could walk in on me at any moment, because if I did something I didn't want him to see, then that would be how I knew it was wrong."

"Your mum sounds pretty smart," said Harry. Hermione nodded.

"My point is, I think you can be friends with your students, especially the ones you already were friends with. And think of how Remus was able to support you as a teacher and as a friend, and use that as your compass point. If Dumbledore had walked into his office while he was talking to you, he never would have been ashamed of taking you under his wing. And he never gave you an unfair advantage in class, we all knew that, even though that might have been easier to deal with than you just being some kind of natural all of a sudden."

Harry nodded. He felt like a great weight had been taken away from him. He knew where to draw the boundaries now. Harry had been very vulnerable with Remus, learning how to cast a Patronus and reliving his parents' deaths, and Remus had always been kind and supportive.

But Harry had been focussed, hyper focussed on the task at hand, and so had never fallen apart. That was how Harry usually managed to keep it together. Yes, he was in great risk with the Dementors, and they were still the form his boggart took, so his fear was real, but it had never overwhelmed him because when he saw them, he just focussed on conjuring the charm and getting rid of them. The darkest times for him had been when he felt truly helpless, like in the summer before his fifth year at Hogwarts, trapped in the Muggle world and reliving Cedric's death over and over. He had coped with that by stealing newspapers and scouring them for evidence of Voldemort's return, trying to give himself a task. Draco must be feeling like that now-he was haunted by the past with no real goal for the future. Passing NEWTs wasn't enough of a goal-it's too passive. The NEWTs will happen no matter what Draco does.

Hermione was happy to let Harry puzzle it out, and afterwards they walked to the feast together. Before they stepped inside, Hermione gave Harry a quick hug.

"I've missed you. Even just sitting quietly together. Don't be a stranger," she told him. Harry grinned.

"I suppose I could plan my lessons in the library if you wanted company," he said.

They agreed to see more of each other, and Harry tried not to think of the other times they had agreed the same thing as he left Hermione to sit with the rest of the staff.


	6. Chapter 6

When Harry left the feast he was feeling incredibly at peace. He felt like he had a proper direction and purpose and was already thinking of other students he would be able to help. He had complained about wizards not valuing mental health without thinking of what he could do to help, but now he knew he had to do something. He thought Draco was probably a big enough case that he deserved undivided attention, but once he felt Draco was coping better, he planned to go to McGonagall and set himself up as a kind of counsellor.

Harry was determined to think of Draco professionally. Every time he slipped up and thought about the kiss, he reminded himself forcefully that Draco was vulnerable and needed Harry's help. He probably would have kissed anyone that was comforting him. Harry wasn't special, he just happened to be there. Better to pretend it never happened and focus on helping Draco feel comfortable enough that he could talk to someone else, make friends out of the other students, maybe find a more suitable neck to kiss. The thought made Harry feel lonely, but it didn't matter. He wouldn't be alone forever.

Draco was waiting for him in his office when he got there. He was sitting in the same armchair as before, but the couch was now a bed. Harry felt stupid for suggesting a futon. Of course Draco could transfigure a couch to a bed. He could probably transfigure a watch into a bed if he wanted. Harry sat in the other armchair. He had decided to wait and see what Draco brought up before making him talk about anything.

Harry didn't see how Draco moved, but suddenly their lips were touching and Draco was holding Harry's face gently. Harry kissed back without thinking, and grabbed at Draco's robes, pulling him closer. Draco pulled back and took Harry's glasses off and in those seconds, Harry pulled himself together. He grabbed Draco's wrists, still holding his glasses.

"I can't," he said firmly.

Draco gave him a skeptical look.

"I'm not making this up, you like me too," he said.

"Draco, I'm your _teacher_."

Draco laughed.

"Here I was thinking you had a problem with me being a guy!" Draco had an evil look in his eyes. "Okay, so you're my teacher. Teach me something,"

"I'm serious!" Harry tried to push Draco back into his own chair, but Draco wouldn't move. He was stronger than he looked. "I've decided to help you, but I have to keep it professional. I can't do… anything else."

"Like what?" Draco was grinning. "Tell me what's off the table so I don't get confused."

"Draco." Harry let go of Draco's wrists and leaned away. He knew what Draco was doing, trying to make him think that way. Harry had been trying all day to skate over the possibilities, rejecting them before they could develop into fantasies.

"Would it be different if we were still students together?"

Harry remembered how he had obsessed over Draco just a couple of years ago. He remembered dreaming of finding him, alone, up to something. He could have jinxed him, but instead he always tackled him. That hatred he'd once felt made it better. When he had kissed Ginny, it was nice and sweet. It wasn't the battle he'd imagined with Draco.

But when he was 16, it took almost nothing to make him think that way. He was dangerously passionate. And cursing someone didn't seem as satisfying as hitting them. He couldn't do either now. Harming a student would be even worse than kissing a student, surely.

Draco was kneeling in front of Harry, and as he saw Harry's protests getting weaker, he grew more confident. He started stroking Harry's legs, starting at the knees and moving upwards to his belt then back to his knees.

"Draco, you can't," Harry said, feeling utterly trapped. He hated Draco for putting him in this position.

"I haven't seen you angry in too long," Draco said. "You were calm and collected, even when the Dark Lord was trying to kill you in front of everyone. You didn't hate him, did you? You've stopped hating me too … You always have to do things the _right_ way, don't you, Potter?"

No, he hadn't hated Voldemort. He'd pitied him. And in a way, he had pitied Draco as well. But now, he wasn't some helpless kid caught up in something too big for him. Harry couldn't help but remember all the times Draco had been all too in control of his actions. When he broke Harry's nose by stomping on it. When he conspired with Rita Skeeter and took such obvious delight in his discomfort. All the times he had thrown Harry's dead parents into his face. Harry was definitely angry now. He shoved Draco's hands away and tried to stand up, but Draco was in his way, pushing down on his chest. Harry stood up, forcing Draco with him and Draco had a moment of doubt, thinking he'd pushed too far, before Harry grabbed Draco by the neck and kissed him.

Draco let Harry push him all the way to the wall and tried to give back as good as he was getting. Harry's kisses were not the gentle ones Draco had given him before, trying to win him over. Harry was kissing like this was a fight and he was going to win. Draco broke away from the kisses to gasp for breath and Harry kept kissing Draco's neck, and tore his shirt out of the way to bite at his shoulders. Draco pushed Harry in the chest, getting free of the wall and Harry pushed him back. Obviously frustrated and competitive, Draco hooked his foot around Harry's ankle and pushed him to the floor. Draco climbed on top of Harry before he could recover and held his wrists above their heads and kissed him, more slowly now. Harry waited until Draco let go of his wrists to start pull at the buttons on Harry's shirt, and then twisted and pushed until he was on top. Draco kept at Harry's buttons while Harry kissed and bit him. Harry shivered at Draco's touch on his bare chest and Draco pressed his advantage. Harry let Draco roll them again so that he could unbutton Draco's shirt while Draco was on top.

Draco pushed Harry's shirt and robes free of his arms and kissed and bit his bare chest. He looped his fingers in Harry's belt and tugged. Harry came over in goosebumps and Draco kissed them. Harry managed to get Draco's shirt off and then faltered. He didn't know what he was doing.

Harry pushed Draco off, but not with the same force as before. He pulled his knees to his chest and rested his chin on his knees.

"Draco, I can't…"

"For fucks sake, we're on holiday, can we just pretend you're not my teacher?" Draco's voice was strained with tension.

Harry kneaded his forehead with his hands. For a stupid moment then, he had thought that if he gave Draco what he wanted then he might stop. But the realisation that it wasn't just a kiss that Draco wanted had stopped him cold. For all his talk about being a teacher, Harry suddenly felt very young.

"I've never… I never…"

"Just say what you mean," said Draco. Draco was realising that Harry had always had the power in their relationship. Harry had turned down Draco's friendship. Harry had always risen to Draco's challenges. Harry nearly killed Draco. Then Harry saved Draco's life. Harry had always been in control.

"I've only kissed two people. I haven't done anything like this before. I thought I'd decided to not do this. I don't get confused like this!"

"Can we deal with thinking and being confused later?" Draco asked.

Harry nodded into his knees. Draco scooted closer.

"Just-You do know what you're doing, right?" said Harry.

"Not like that … Harry-" Draco scrunched up his face. "Potter, I've been with people, but not anything like-" After being so frustrated with Harry for not being able to speak, he suddenly got it. But there were some things he didn't want to think about. He sighed and stood up. He took his pants off and flopped on the bed. When Harry looked up again, Draco had wrapped himself in blankets.

Apparently, that was enough for the night.


	7. Chapter 7

After that night, Harry had found it hard to move on. He wanted to take back his hesitation and see where it might have lead. He was a lot more confident in his dreams. And even though he was trying to convince himself that it was for the best, and that next time he would be strong enough to resist, no matter what Draco did, he was bitterly disappointed that the opportunity never came up.

For the next week, Harry couldn't find Draco anywhere, so he tried to throw himself into work. There were fewer than twenty people at Hogwarts, and the castle seemed vast and lonely. Harry didn't think Draco was even sleeping in his office anymore; with the whole castle empty, he had his pick of sleeping spots. He couldn't even ask Hermione's advice, even if he had been comfortable telling her something so intimate, because she had left for the Burrow as soon as she could. Harry tried not to resent her for knowing where she stood with her lover.

On Christmas Eve, Harry was finished with his markings and couldn't plan any more. He'd even started preparing himself for his own NEWTs, which he'd neglected during the busy first term. There was a surprising amount of crossover with Defence Against the Dark Arts and the subjects he was going to attempt, so he didn't feel too rusty. But he decided to wander the halls of Hogwarts instead, looking for something his father and friends might have missed on their map.

It was a project of his that had started because of the staff's obligation to patrol the corridors checking for rule-breaking students or gaps in their defence. He was talking to all the portraits and finding the history of every statue and suit of armour, trying to find some secret phrase that might unlock something new.

He found Draco in the Hufflepuff common room of all places. Harry heard something inside as he was walking past the kitchens, and because there were no Hufflepuff's staying over the holidays, he tapped out the password and walked in with his wand out. The entrance was long and narrow, allowing Harry to walk slowly and remain hidden.

Draco was sitting at the table in front of the fireplace, reading and taking notes. He was wearing a yellow and brown jumper and was completely absorbed in what he was doing, so much so that he didn't notice Harry step through the door.

Harry watched quietly for a moment, noticing how Draco looked with his guard down. His prominent cheekbones were flushed lightly from the fire, and his hair fell naturally around his face. He had always been thin, but already Harry could see that the two weeks off had agreed with him. He didn't look brittle. He looked handsome. That fact was not going to make their next meeting any easier for Harry.

Harry must have made some noise, because suddenly Draco's head snapped up, and Harry managed to cast a shield charm just in time to block the jinx that flew at him. Draco dropped his wand in shock and backed away.

"I'm sorry!" he said. "I didn't- I just reacted!"

Draco's hands were shaking and he was glaring at the floor. Harry pocketed his wand and moved towards him.

"It's OK, Draco, what's wrong?"

Draco shook his head violently.

"I could have hurt you," he said. "I don't want to hurt anyone anymore."

"I can take it," Harry said gently. "I'm quick like that."

Draco crouched down on his toes and held his head. His breathing was whooshing through him in gasps.

"What's happening?" Harry asked, bewildered. He kneeled down to try and see Draco better.

"I don't belong here," he gasped.

Harry reached out and hugged Draco as he had before and, like before, it calmed him. He gradually steadied his breathing and then collapsed into a sit. Harry rearranged himself around Draco and slowly, hesitatingly, brushed his blond hair out of his face. He stroked it again and again, letting his fingertips brush Draco's scalp and feeling the strands catch in between his fingers. Draco sat still and let Harry comb through his hair.

"My mother used to brush my hair when I was little," he told Harry. "Before I came to Hogwarts I used to wear it long, like Father."

"It's getting long now," said Harry.

Draco leaned into Harry's shoulder. The two of them sat in silence. Harry decided that he would give himself a pass, at least for the holidays. He could deal with the teacher/student nonsense later. It seemed incredibly unimportant when compared to how much he wanted Draco to kiss him again.

After a long pause, Draco scooted to his feet. He held his hand out and brought Harry up. Harry felt surprisingly shy. He avoided Draco's eyes but awkwardly ducked towards him and kissed him, unsure of whether to aim for his lips or his cheek and got somewhere in the middle.

"You're cute when you're nervous," Draco told Harry.

"Shut up," Harry said, shoving him lightly. Draco stumbled backwards, grinning.

"Are we … on holiday?" Draco asked significantly. Harry's mouth was suddenly too dry to reply. He nodded instead. "Do we have to stay in this ridiculous room?" asked Draco.

"You started it!" said Harry.

"I was trying it out." Draco said. "I don't think sunshine and flowers suit me." Harry shook his head but took Draco's hand when he offered it and they both walked out.

Harry and Draco dropped out of holding hands naturally just before the Great Hall and walked quietly side by side up stairs and down corridors to Harry's office. There was a humming tension and neither dared to break it. Harry had never been so sure of mutual attraction. He thought if they touched, that might be it, he might not be able to stop himself from acting in the middle of the castle, and not give a damn who came along and saw them.

Finally, after the longest walk of Harry's life, they reached his classroom. He scanned the room quickly and grinned when he found it empty. He grabbed Draco on either side of the face and kissed him. He felt as though all the tension that had thrummed between them was now concentrated in their touches, and the places where their skin met were sharply electric. Harry's stomach fluttered wildly. He felt tingles up his neck. They eagerly kissed, and tried to maneuver the classroom at the same time. They knocked into a desk and laughed. Draco untangled himself from Harry's grip and lead him at a half run to the office. Draco struggled with the door handle in his hurry and this made them both laugh again. Everything was funny in a wonderful way.

When he managed to get through the door, Draco turned back to Harry and pulled him close. They kissed and melted into each other. As the kiss continued, Draco snuck his hands under Harry's jumper and shirt to touch the warm skin in the small of his back. Harry shivered slightly at his cold hands and copied the movement. Draco was thin and his skin was soft; once Harry started touching it, he couldn't seem to stop.

He started tugging at Draco's jumper, and then burst into laughter again. Draco looked at him oddly.

"Why are you wearing a Hufflepuff jumper?" Harry asked. Draco started laughing too.

"I was cold waiting for the fire to warm up," he said.

"Oh!" said Harry. He pointed to his fireplace with his wand, and the wood and pinecones inside caught fire. "Now I don't have to worry about doing this," he said, and he took Draco's tops off, leaving his chest bare. "Have you always been this pale?"

"Oh, shut up. It's not like you have more colour."

Harry grinned and shrugged out of his own jumper and t-shirt.

"My eyes are up here," Harry said, with a nervous laugh. Draco was staring at him and apart from getting changed awkwardly in front of people, he hadn't really been on display like this before. Draco snapped out of it and stepped into a kiss, wrapping his arms around Harry's neck. Harry automatically held Draco's waist.

They both began to roam each other's bodies. Harry jumped a little when Draco gently hooked two fingers in his jeans. Draco pulled back, but Harry caught his elbow.

"I'm okay," Harry told him. Draco smirked and popped open his top button, raising his eyebrow. "Not everything is a challenge," Harry said, as Draco slowly moved his zip down, drawing the movement out.

"I'm definitely going to win if you're not even playing," said Draco. He confidently stripped Harry's pants down. There was an awkward moment when neither of them moved, and then Harry pulled Draco onto the couch. Draco leaned on top of Harry and kissed him with confidence. Harry copied Draco's movements and touches and tried to keep up. Draco found his wand in his jeans, and transfigured the couch into a bed, giving them more room, and dropped the wand carelessly, causing it to emit several sparks. They scooted towards the centre of the bed and Draco pulled his pants off.

Draco didn't give Harry time to get nervous, he just positioned himself in between Harry's legs and leaned on his elbows. There was fabric between them, but Harry had never been that bare against another person, hadn't ever had anyone touch him there and he was aware of every brush against him, no matter how gentle. Draco moved slowly, lightly extending the touch with long, intense movements. Harry held Draco at his shoulder blades and wondered at the feel of the muscles moving under his skin. He didn't think it could feel better, until Draco rolled them both so they were facing each other on their sides and reached down with his hand.

Again, Harry decided to copy him. Though he was new at this, he knew what felt nice on himself so he was confident he could do the same for Draco. The skin on skin contact felt incredible.

"Careful," said Draco. It came out like a sigh.

"Did I hurt you?" asked Harry. He lessened his grip immediately, albeit reluctantly.

"No." Speaking seemed difficult. Draco's breathing was coming out in pants and gasps. "You're just… I'm close,"

Harry realised what Draco meant and flushed with victory.

"Careful yourself," he said. Draco moaned and pushed his forehead into Harry's shoulder. Harry grabbed Draco around the waist and pulled him closer and they both sped their hands up. Harry swore under his breath. That was Draco's undoing, and his hand flexed around Harry as he came. After catching his breath, Draco continued his stroking, and Harry followed within seconds.

They both wrapped their arms around each other and moved closer, chest to chest, as they caught their breath back. Harry grabbed at the blanket and pulled it over both of them. Draco nuzzled into Harry's neck and Harry wrapped his arms around him.

"So, do we need to talk about this?" Harry said. Draco traced circles on Harry's chest, playing with the fine hairs that grew in soft curls.

"Probably," said Draco. His voice was relaxed, almost lazy.

"I can't believe I feel more nervous about talking about my feelings than I do about… the other stuff," Harry said.

"I liked it," said Draco. "I'm not afraid to say that."

"Yeah, fine, I liked it too," said Harry. "That's not hard to say, it's pretty obvious we liked that."

Draco leaned up on his elbow so he could look Harry in the eye.

"I'd like to do it again. I'd like to do different things. Give me half an hour and I'll show you something new."

Harry felt his stomach flutter and tingles ran up and down his body. His mouth was dry, so he swallowed.

"Do you want anything more than that?" Harry asked.

"You say that like what I'm suggesting isn't very much." Draco pointedly let his eyes roam over Harry's body. "I'm pretty creative."

"I mean, do you want to just do this in here for a while, or do you want to be boyfriends," Harry blushed. It seemed pretty silly to say it out loud. Belatedly, Harry realised he hadn't offered the option to leave it at that.

"Are you asking me out, Potter?"

"I think we're on a first name basis at least," said Harry.

"I thought you weren't allowed to date students."

"I'm not, but it seemed a bit mean to say so now."

"I can keep a secret," Draco said. "I won't get you in trouble. Besides, secrets turn me on." Draco brushed his hair back out of his face. "I don't think I ever had more sex than during that time when I was a Death Eater. The fun part, I mean, before I started freaking out and you tried to cut me into tiny pieces."

"I didn't mean that," Harry said quickly. "I didn't know what the spell did."

"I don't care," said Draco, arching his eyebrow. "I think the fact you were following me around like some middle-aged woman with a crush on Gilderoy bloody Lockhart puffed me up even more."

"I was pretty obsessed …"

"Yeah, well, who can blame you?" Draco flopped back down into Harry's arms and resumed tracing his chest. Harry relaxed. He didn't know what he would have done if Draco had insisted they go public. "I knew you suspected I was up to no good, but didn't see how it was that different to other years, so I used to imagine you were going to burst in on me any second." Draco smirked at the thought. "As I said, lots of sex."

Unreasonably, Harry felt a tug of jealousy. Not just that someone else had been with Draco, but also that Draco had been with someone else when Harry was left by himself, so consumed by the thought of Draco he never even thought to get rid of that tension another way.

"I don't go around bragging about this stuff, anyway. Or didn't. It was my only off-limits brag. I don't have anyone to brag to, I don't know why you're so worried."

"I don't really know either. This year feels weird to me, like I used to be a dog on a lead and someone's let the lead go. I know I'm still at Hogwarts, but I could have gone and done anything. And I know I broke the school rules on a constant basis when I was a student, but it was almost always for a good reason, and there really aren't that many rules to break as a professor."

"You're worried about the rules?"

"I've said that from the start. It's not like I can just do detention and be forgiven anymore. Why did you think I was worried?"

"I'm not exactly popular at the moment. I don't know what would happen to you if someone found out, but I bet it would be worse with me than it would be if you were shagging Granger." That was a mental image Harry could have done without. Odd how last year, when it had been impossible not to at least think of her sleeping so close to him he had reminded himself that thoughts meant nothing because, after all, he had once thought of much worse with Draco Malfoy of all people.

"No, I'm pretty sure I'd be stoned to death for getting in the middle of her and Ron…"

"The Weasley girl then, if she were here and your student-you get my point, right?"

Harry mulled it over. He hadn't really thought further than how disappointed McGonagall would be if she thought he wasn't taking this seriously. But so many of the students still didn't trust Slytherins, most of the fights he had broken up were around that subject. He wasn't sure if there was more fighting this year, or if he just hadn't paid attention to any that weren't between himself and Malfoy before. If it got out that he was giving Draco special attention, his authority would be ruined.

And it was bigger than that. So far, Shacklebolt had allowed Harry to sit in on trials for witches and wizards that he hadn't had a relationship with. It wasn't like he made a huge difference, but his opinion was always valued. If the Ministry thought that Draco was whispering in his ear, they would want to distance themselves.

Would Ron and Hermione understand? Hermione would, surely. Well… probably. Harry had no idea how Ron would react.

"I didn't mean to stress you out," Draco said quietly. "You look like you want to take it back."

Harry snapped out of his reverie and hugged Draco tightly.

"No," he said. "I'm not taking it back."


	8. Chapter 8

Harry and Draco got dressed and headed down for lunch. Draco insisted on going first, so that it didn't look like they were going together, and Harry saw that he had been telling the truth: the secret did make it more fun. When they got to the Great Hall, the usual tables had been replaced with two small ones, and the Hall was empty, but they didn't sit together. Instead they watched each other from across the room, and let the tension build.

Harry's head was full of the memory of what Draco had looked like without clothes, and he couldn't stop himself from imagining taking them off again. He knew what it would feel like to kiss him, could practically feel the cold wood of the table against his shoulders as he imagined using the table as a bed. He knew if someone sat next to him his arousal would be obvious, which only made his erection harder. It became hard to swallow food because his mouth was dry and he felt entirely uninterested in feeding himself. He forced his way through his meal for the sake of not having to exit his office again.

Draco finished first and swaggered out in a way that made Harry suddenly able to eat again. He bolted down his food and it took a supreme force of will to make sure he didn't run for his office. He was glad he didn't run into anyone on the way up, because although standing had made his bulge a little less obvious, he wasn't willing to test how noticeable it was.

When he opened the door to his office, he couldn't see Draco. For a moment he was irrationally angry, but then he thought to check his bedroom. Once he was through the enchanted doorway, he could hear the sound of the shower in his bathroom. He followed the noise and saw that Draco was already inside. Harry didn't hesitate to take his clothes off and join him. Draco moved out of the way to allow Harry to get properly wet, but Harry pulled him close so they were both under the water.

Draco's skin felt different when it was wet. Harry touched him all over, watching and feeling how his hands slipped easily from chest to shoulder, back to bum to leg. Draco held Harry by the jaw and tilted his face back up so that he could kiss him. Harry noticed that Draco was being very firm, and allowed him to take the lead. Draco held Harry still as he kissed his neck and nibbled on his ear. Harry shuddered with pleasure. Draco pressed his body close to Harry's as he kissed Harry's collarbone, sucking gently on the ridge it created. He released Harry's jaw and stroked his chest confidently. He pulled softly on Harry's nipples and stroked down his sides. When he reached Harry's hips, Draco held them steady as he bent down onto his knees.

Harry felt vulnerable and was about to protest that he didn't want to be inspected that close when Draco stared directly into his eyes and licked his length. Harry's mind went blank. Still maintaining eye contact, Draco licked again and again. Draco gripped the base with his hand and delicately covered the tip with his mouth, sucking gently. Harry slapped his hands to the shower wall to keep himself standing. Draco's tongue was now swirling in circles while his hand pumped slowly. It was sensory overload. Draco had started very gentle, but seemed to be losing control. The rhythm to his movements had seemed careful and now was inconsistent. His enjoyment was obvious, and Harry was powerless to return it. He tapped Draco on the head, meaning to warn him so he didn't come in his mouth, but Draco just looked up at Harry and maintained eye contact while he moved. Harry shuddered and came, and Draco slowly eased his mouth and hands to a stop. He gave Harry's length one last slow lick and then stood up, automatically hugging Harry to him.

"That was so satisfying," Draco said. He bit lightly into Harry's shoulders and held him close.

"Satisfying for you?" Harry said wonderingly. He didn't know how to articulate how it felt. He felt like all his words had been swept from his brain.

"Mmm," said Draco. "I'm good, aren't I?" He massaged Harry's back with firm fingers. "Admit it, I'm the best you've ever had."

"Not hard to be number one out of one," Harry said. He felt like he should be massaging Draco back, but his body seemed to be made out of jelly. It was all he could do to keep standing.

Draco pulled back and looked Harry in the eye. He looked disbelieving.

"Okay, you're the best I've ever had!" Harry said. "Even if I'd had millions, you'd still be number one." Draco rolled his eyes.

"I wasn't fishing for a compliment. I was questioning your experience."

"Oh," said Harry. "I already told you I've only kissed Cho and Ginny. Ginny and I sometimes kissed for almost an hour, and I never got up the courage to do anything more. I think she would have let me … I'm not really sure, I kept expecting for someone to walk in on us and I didn't know what I was doing, it was just less stressful to just enjoy kissing her." Harry pulled Draco back into a hug so he didn't have to look at him directly. "I know you're more experienced. I like that. It's less pressure on me to know what to do."

After a moment, Draco stepped out of the shower and started to dry himself off. Harry let him think as they both got dressed again.

"I'm going to just get the truth out of the way," Draco said. "So in fourth year, Pansy Parkinson started wanting me, and I thought it was funny to watch her struggle. She did everything she could to get my attention. And when the endless 'accidental' having me walk in when she was only in a towel or bending over in front of me, or picking hairs off my robes didn't seem to work, she tried to make me jealous. She basically got herself handed around the older kids, I think she wanted to make me think she knew what she was doing. She wasn't into girls, but she strung along Hestia for a while, thinking that I would find two girls making out in the common room irresistible. I won't say I didn't like it, but mostly I found it very _funny_ that I could make her like that.

"And then the Yule Ball came up, and she waited for me to ask her up until two weeks before when she finally agreed to go with Warrington. And so I waited until the day before and asked her, and she immediately dumped him. We left the ball early. She wasn't hideous, but she wasn't stunning either, so I didn't feel the need to show her off on my arm. I did feel the need to find out what she had been learning. So we had sex, and we continued to for the rest of the year. It was … okay. In the holidays she found books and learned how to do more than just lie there. She knew I was losing interest, but I couldn't be bothered breaking up with her. She was every bit as enthusiastic as I'd hoped, and the more bored I got, the more she tried. Anyway, all it took for me to ditch her was Blaise making some comment that made me think he'd be willing. And he was, which was great for those last few weeks of term, and then when I got home father put a stop to it. I honestly thought Crabbe and Goyle were too stupid to realise what was going on, but obviously not. Anyway, he got dragged off to Azkaban not long after that, so I spent fifth year doing whatever I wanted, and then Pansy wormed her way back in by saying she didn't mind if Blaise was there too. Blaise had been open to it, but he didn't like how I was with Pansy, so he ended things. And then in sixth year, I already told you I went a bit wild, and sometimes it was Pansy, and sometimes it was someone else, but I was careful not to stick to any guy too long in case Crabbe and Goyle found out again. I'm not sure if they did or not, or if no one cared because I was doing something more important than all that.

"Secrets on top of secrets. And then you cursed me and I had been having no luck with my mission and I honestly haven't been remotely interested since then. I worried about it a bit, and tried despite my anxiety a couple of times with Pansy, but I think that was her limit. And then you stood up for me a couple of times and I've been sleeping in your office so close to your bed, knowing how to get in because you're not remotely subtle about the entrance and it's been driving me crazy because even though I told myself you had wanted me for a while there, I didn't really believe it, and this time I couldn't take it out on anyone else because I isolated myself."

During his long confession, Draco had sat on Harry's bed and Harry had leaned against the wall. Now he climbed onto the bed too. Draco seemed to be waiting for him to say something.

"I'm not afraid of competition," Harry said. "Neither of us is just a means to an end, you're the only one that I've obsessed over. I'm the only one that you trusted to watch over you. I see you and I don't think about how I'm new at this and who you've been with in the past. I think that I don't feel alone for the first time in a long time. I want you, not just because I'm unspeakably attracted to you, but because you feel … right."

Draco sighed. They both moved to lie in the bed under the covers. Harry automatically moved to hold Draco from behind. They fit together, Harry's belly pressing into Draco's back and their legs tangled.

"I have to leave early tomorrow," Harry said. He wanted so badly just to sleep, but he didn't want Draco to think he was running away. "I'm spending Christmas with Ron's family. Will you be okay?" Draco snorted softly. He was playing with Harry's fingers.

"When will you be back?"

"I'll stay there Christmas night, and probably come back some time Boxing Day, but maybe not 'til the day after."

"I'm sleeping now," Draco told Harry. Harry snuggled in closer. He felt like up until that moment there was something missing, and Draco's body was filling that void.


	9. Chapter 9

When Harry woke up, Draco had shifted over but his hand was stretching out to hold his waist. He was tempted to let Draco sleep, but couldn't help himself. He eased his way under Draco's arm and gently stroked his chest. Draco's eyes snapped to awareness immediately.

"Morning," Harry said.

"Morning," said Draco. He drew Harry closer to him. "Happy Christmas." Harry grinned and nuzzled into Draco's neck. "That tickles," Draco protested sleepily.

It was incredibly hard to extricate himself from his warm bed and the willing embrace of Draco. As Harry walked towards Hogsmeade in order to apparate, he felt as though there were marks on his skin where Draco's arms were, and it was as if he had gotten up in the morning and left behind half his body.

The cold morning air helped to clear away his pining. He needed focus for today. Though he had yearned for The Burrow more than he had expected, he had avoided thinking too hard about meeting Ginny there. Even weeks ago, he had been thinking it would be better to clearly state that they weren't together. Now, it was essential. He didn't consider being with Draco cheating, not when he hadn't so much as kissed Ginny since Bill and Fleur's wedding. But neither did he think either of them would be truly free until they cleared the air.

Now that he knew what to be aware of, he felt when he exited Hogwart's boundary, and he took a few more steps to be sure, before Disapparating. Once he Apparated just down the country lane from The Burrow, Harry found himself considering flying back to Hogwarts. While convenient, he didn't think he would ever get used to the awful feeling that went with Apparition. He re-centred the small pack on his back and approached the house, knowing that he would Apparate back. He didn't want to waste a single moment travelling that could be spent at either of his two favourite places.

He walked easily into the kitchen and was delighted to see Mrs Weasley at the stove. She spotted him at the same time and bustled over to give him a warm hug.

"How are you, Harry dear?" she said. "It does me good to see you not looking like a starved puppy, I must say!" She let him go and started filling a plate for him. "Hogwarts is good for you,"she told him. George and Ginny were sitting at the table and Harry hugged them both while Mrs Weasley piled on bacon, eggs and toast onto his plate. He gratefully accepted it, feeling the hunger that came after Apparition sickness passed.

"How's work going?" Harry asked George.

"We can't make products fast enough, nearly everything's on backorder. Ron's driving me mad, keeps trying to get new stuff in when we can't cope with the existing stuff." There was a tinge of pride in his voice. "Did you know he'd been keeping a journal of ideas? He said he used it to distract himself last year."

Harry shook his head in wonder. He had known Ron was helping manage the store but hadn't realised that he was contributing to it as well.

"Go get some of those snakes Ron designed, show Harry," said Mrs Weasley. "He's doing a really good job."

"Don't sound too surprised," said Ron from the doorway. He threw what looked like a cheap Muggle toy snake at Harry. As he caught it, it began to move, creeping around his wrist with convincing life. It hissed madly and waggled its eyes.

"This is amazing!" said Harry.

"Should have known it wouldn't freak you out," said Ron. "I'm going over our adventures and making the worst parts into toys."

"Sounds therapeutic," remarked Harry.

"He's not the only one cashing in on it," Ginny told him. "Ron got an owl the other day, they want to make a chocolate frog card for him. And Shacklebolt arrested Dung for selling 'genuine' Harry Potter and Friends autographs." Harry groaned. "How do you manage being a famous person and a professor?"

"Dumbledore managed it," Harry said automatically. It had become his natural defence. He reminded himself he was with family and forced himself to continue. "The younger ones don't really care, and the older ones knew me at school, so they'd gotten used to the idea of being around me. McGonagall tells me parents keep coming up with excuses to meet with me, but none of them would be good enough for the other professors so she's managed to turn them all down so far."

Hermione entered the room, hair still wet from a shower. She smiled at Harry and moved naturally under Ron's arm. Harry finished off his breakfast quickly to give them room at the table. For Christmas lunch they would be eating outside to fit everyone, but in the meantime the kitchen was getting cramped. Ginny caught Harry's eye and they both walked outside. Harry had never been to The Burrow during winter, but there was some kind of charm keeping the garden warm.

"We let the snow in generally, but with everyone needing to eat outside, it's better to have it warm," Ginny explained. Harry looked at her properly for the first time. Her eyes were brown and lovely, and he was shocked he had forgotten that. Her hair was bound in a messy braid and she was wearing a huge, dark blue Weasley jumper with a 'G' on it.

"I didn't realise I missed you until I saw you," Harry said gently. Ginny smiled sadly.  
"Me neither. Doesn't bode well, does it."

"I don't think I would have managed last year without the thought of coming home to you. But this year, which is really a lot less stressful, I forgot … I forgot the colour of your eyes."

"It's not just that," said Ginny. "Last year, we didn't know if we would survive. I didn't dare think of the future. Now I have." She grimaced. "I don't think I could _just_ be Harry Potter's wife. Or even girlfriend. If that was my identity … it just doesn't leave room to be me."

Harry and Ginny looked at each other. Harry attempted a smile.

"At least we're on the same page. I'm really sorry I avoided talking about it sooner."

"You would have had to drag me out of the sky to do that," said Ginny gently. "I wasn't ready for that chapter to be over."

They walked for a while in companionable silence. Harry had the bizarre impulse to tell her about Draco, something that showed him he really didn't think of her romantically anymore, but he kept quiet. He wouldn't like to hear that she had been with other people before they talked. He would have understood, but it still would have hurt. Especially seeing as he was starting to think that it wasn't just about sex.

By the time he and Ginny entered the house again, the kitchen was empty. Harry left her in the living room to climb up to Ron's room. He knocked out of habit.

"Just a minute," Ron cautioned. Seconds later, Ron opened the door, pulling his shirt down over wild orange hair. "Oh, it's you. I was just getting changed." Harry flopped down onto Ron's bed.

"I talked to Ginny," Harry said.

"How'd it go?"

"Yeah, we agreed to end it. Or continue with it being ended."

"For the best, mate," said Ron. "She wrote to me more than she wrote to you."

"I know." They sat in silence for a bit, but Harry felt his secret threatening to come out. _Better to take control rather than just blurt it_ , he reasoned. "I want to tell you something, but I don't know how you'll react." Harry stared at the ceiling to avoid looking at Ron.

"Full disclosure … Hermione's here." Hermione edged awkwardly out of Ron's closet.

"Sorry, Harry," she said. "Mrs Weasley has been keeping us in separate rooms, we didn't think she would feel comfortable with us alone together. Do you want me to leave?"

"No," said Harry honestly. "I was going to ask your opinion anyway."

"So what's going on?" asked Ron. He sat on Harry's camp bed and Hermione settled herself leaning on him.

"So Malfoy's been sleeping in my office." Ron and Hermione exchanged looks. "Hermione already told you," Harry guessed.

"Only so much happens to me to put in a letter," said Hermione. "We tell each other what we eat just for something to say." Harry shifted awkwardly. He had no idea how to continue. Ron started to say something but Hermione put her hand on his and he kept silent. Harry kept his eyes fixed on a Chudley Cannon's poster.

"Have you ever thought … have you ever thought about being with a guy?" Harry closed his eyes against their reactions. Ron and Hermione exchanged looks carefully. Hermione nudged Ron. It was him the question was directed to. Obviously she wasn't opposed.

"Uh, well … blimey mate, that's put me on the spot. I mean Dean and Seamus are … gay, so that makes you think," Ron said.

"Dean and Seamus are gay?"

"You are so oblivious," sighed Hermione. Harry sat up. His friends were smiling kindly at him, as if they would love him no matter what. Which was probably true, seeing as they'd followed him despite threat of death multiple times. Harry found himself preferring the real challenge to talking about his feelings any day. There wasn't much chance of a dragon bursting in, so ...

"Okay, so I told you that he needed support, that we talked about stuff. He … he kissed me. And then I talked to Hermione about the support stuff and wanting to have boundaries, but didn't want to mention the kiss."

"Kinda relevant information, Harry!" Hermione sounded exasperated. "That's a bigger boundary than what we discussed!"

"And then I decided to be professional and then I couldn't be because …" Harry looked at them desperately, unable to articulate it. Ron and Hermione waited for a bit to see if he would finish his thought.

"Harry, do you want to _be_ with Draco?" asked Hermione. Harry looked at Ron to try and gauge his reaction. Ron was keeping a pretty straight face, but he couldn't completely hide a bemused smile.

"I think so, but …" Harry took in a deep breath. "I'm _very_ attracted to him, and I feel like I might be the only one that _gets_ him and I feel like I have to mention that I'm attracted to him again because that's really important." Ron snorted and Hermione smiled but they didn't interrupt. Harry thought he was being more funny than that, but continued anyway. "I mean there's the obvious, that we've hated each other for years, but that really doesn't seem to matter anymore," and Harry stopped himself from saying _and it actually might make it hotter_. "But then there's the fact he's my student and then there's the fact he's a Malfoy, so I don't know what I'm feeling."

"We can't tell you what to feel," Hermione told him gently. "But we're on your team, right Ron? Always on your team."

"What I don't get is that it's Malfoy," Ron said. "He's not what I'd call classically handsome," Hermione glared at him. "What?" he protested.

"Harry's had very intense feelings about Draco since they met."

"Who would you call classically handsome?" Harry asked curiously. Ron turned very red and collapsed onto the bed, hiding behind Hermione.

"I think you could do worse," Hermione said. "He has nice cheekbones." Harry and Ron laughed at Hermione's matter-of-fact tone.

"There's the fact that he's a giant git," Ron said. "That counterbalances bone structure for me!"

The whole thing was ridiculous. Harry and Hermione probed Ron further, trying to get him to confess attraction to a guy, before Ron very pointedly turned the conversation to his latest invention, which Hermione was helping with. She was too excited by new magic to change the subject back. It was a potion that could be put into sweets that made a random body part grow. Ron had pitched it to give the recipient ridiculously sized breasts, but George had been skeptical about marketing. After all, kids were their main target, and that was the kind of thing that got kids banned from visiting their shop. So, Ron thought random body engorgement would be just as funny, and have the added bonus of surprising the pranker as well as the audience.

"George is making me fiddle with the probability so that people don't get massive dongs. He really isn't as fun anymore." They talked as they used to at Hogwarts, and Harry felt lighter than air. His friends supported him.


	10. Chapter 10

When Harry, Ron and Hermione went downstairs, they immediately exchanged guilty looks when they saw that most of the setup had already been done. Harry and Ron rushed to take plates from the kitchen outside and Hermione pulled out her wand and conjured candles in the surrounding garden. Though some candles were pressed into bushes, there was no danger of their small fire spreading. She saw one of the tables groaning under the weight of the dishes and reinforced it with another wave of her wand. As they worked, more guests arrived. Bill and Fleur came via car, unwilling to test Teddy's tendency to wriggle on a broomstick. Mr Weasley made them promise to let him 'take a look' at it after lunch. Fleur shot Bill a warning look that he seemed to miss as he heartily agreed. The modest Volvo would probably be able to shoot fire by the end of the day.

Andromeda Tonks showed up soon after and immediately took hold of Teddy. Fleur caught Harry watching and took him aside.

"You made a good call, 'Arry," she told him. "Dromeda loves Teddy but she is still 'urting over 'er 'usband and daughter." Andromeda did look sad as Teddy waved his little arms wildly.

"I just wanted him to have the most stable home he could,"Harry said. "You and Bill are still so solid. I don't know how you manage it." Fleur gave him a sweeping kiss on each cheek for that and held herself even straighter as she went over to Bill. Harry smiled at how easy it was to make her happy. Fleur had an inner strength that he should have seen from the moment he met her, as a fellow Triwizard Champion, but it took the war to get him to see her as more than just beautiful.

The lunch passed in a blur of good food and conversation. Harry found his ears pricking up at his name.

"Of course the information is so valuable that we had to give him a reduced sentence, but he's had no problem with giving us info and then going back to being an evil git in the past," Percy was saying. "Harry's word really only paints Narcissa and Draco in a good light, Lucius is still just awful."

"He's useful though," Mr Weasley said. "And I don't know how innocent the other two are. Keeping an eye on Lucius gives us a reason to keep an eye on them too." Percy nodded seriously.

"When are you coming back to the Ministry, Harry?" he asked. "We could always use more help. Especially now we can't put the fear of Dementors into people."

"I'm pretty happy training the next generation," Harry said. "For what it's worth, Draco's been a quiet, respectful student this year. He's very much struggling with his past, but just the other day he told me he was horrified by the idea of hurting anyone again." Ginny looked at Harry funnily. Harry gave her what he hoped was an innocent smile. "I think I'm going to sign on for another year. Break that curse on the Defence position at least."

"You missed out Perce, he's a good teacher," George said. "Taught us plenty even though we thought we were pretty hot stuff at Defence." Harry smiled. George still seemed like half a person, but at least he was talking more now. It was tragic watching him wait that half beat for Fred to finish his thought just after the Battle. And then he had gone silent for almost two whole months. Harry suspected that Ron had bullied him into perking up. He could see Ron watching George carefully, even more than Mrs Weasley did.

"Harry, Cissy wants to meet Teddy," Andromeda said quietly from across the table. She had allowed Bill to put Teddy in a high chair, but kept glancing back towards him. "Narcissa, I mean. Mrs Malfoy."

"Oh." Harry's mind whirled. "I thought she was, um …"

"Vehemently opposed to anything that isn't pureblood?" Harry smiled. "She wasn't when we were growing up. Our parents wanted us to marry pureblood because the Black side of the family were … anyway, Bella was the exception in our family, playing up the Black hatred to get herself prioritised in the will I suspect. Cissy was the youngest, but she got arranged with Lucius, for her own sake, because after I married Big Ted she couldn't be trusted to make a match herself, but she's told me since that he was putting on his hatred of muggles for his father's sake." Harry felt a jolt of disbelief. How far back did father-worship go in that family? "Of course, when I married Big Ted, they had to cut me off. But she didn't want to, I know. It was just safer for them to pick a side firmly. And now … I know she probably wants to prove to the world that their family aren't as bad as all that and they can put aside things like blood status and even lycanthropy." Andromeda was looking at Harry with pleading eyes. The whole table had gone quiet to listen to what he said. He felt like protesting, like reminding them all that he was only just 18 and they could make their own decisions, but he actually cared about this one.

"Have you seen her since the war?" Harry asked. Andromeda nodded.

"We've been meeting since the war ended. She's so grateful you're looking out for her Draco."

"I think they deserve a chance. I don't know Narcissa, but Draco is beyond desperate to prove himself. He's on track to get all O's, I think he's pushing himself to be known for his academics rather than just his last name." Andromeda nodded fervently. "I would like for us to all meet together, just in case. I don't think they would risk something as stupid as harming Teddy, but …" Harry tried to put his finger on what he thought they could do. "Maybe it would be useful to have more eyes and ears on what they say. See if they are willing to accept change."

Percy was looking at Harry speculatively. He could practically see the cogs turning.

"I understand putting ambition before common sense," he said slowly. "Can I be there?"

Ron, Hermione, Mr Weasley and Fleur all started to speak at once. Harry held up a hand and they fell silent. Harry felt guilty over the power he held, but pushed on.

"I think we should have an Easter gathering. With all of us. No one can feel evil when they're eating Mrs Weasley's eggs." Mrs Weasley blushed and smiled. "Does that give everyone enough time to process their feelings?"

"Harry and I are the only ones who have really seen Draco since the war," Hermione said. "He's working hard. I know connections are how Malfoy's work, but maybe us being their connection is a good thing. We could teach them trust rather than blackmail." Mr Weasley had a rather pitying smile on his face, but he chose not to point out Hermione's naivety. Perhaps he thought it was nice that she could be naive, following what she'd been through. After all it was the sister of Andromeda and Narcissa who had tortured her to unconsciousness.

Lunch was so huge that they ended up having sandwiches from the leftovers for dinner, and that night Harry found himself alone in Ron's room, Ron having left to sneak some time with Hermione. He was glad to have told them his secret, but he felt like he had accomplished all that he came to do. The conversation at lunch was an an added bonus, as he really hadn't known how he was going to get his family to trust Draco, and that was suddenly a priority. Harry was slightly alarmed that he was thinking so far into the future, but even if his relationship with Draco didn't work out, he felt an obligation to help Draco with sorting out the rest of it. He didn't think that could happen unless Draco was seen to be trusted by his family, who had played such an important role in the right side of the war.

Harry thought that he would want to stay at the Weasley's longer, but with Ron and Hermione together, he mostly felt like an outsider. He'd played enough chess games and it was too cold to fly, even though he was curious to see what Ginny had learned.

Harry found himself thinking more and more about Draco waiting for him back in his office. _It's only for the holidays_ , Harry reminded himself. _And then next holidays?_ He didn't feel very convincing. But he still felt like there was a timer on it, and needed to get back. So, on Boxing Day, after a blur of goodbyes that he couldn't focus on, Harry Disapparated to Hogsmeade.


	11. Chapter 11

This story is now being published exclusively on Archive of our Own: /works/11954241/chapters/27028821

Sorry for any inconvenience, it's just gotten a bit much updating both sites.


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